


And We Hadn't Even Kissed Yet

by gabe_writes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, Explicit Language, Ficlet, Fluff, Harry Potter Next Generation, Post War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Eternity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-31
Updated: 2007-12-31
Packaged: 2018-10-27 13:46:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10810236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabe_writes/pseuds/gabe_writes
Summary: After having already told Scorpius his true feelings for him, Albus must now contend with a best mate who may be having second thoughts, and a contemptible boyfriend-stealer in the guise of Geoff Creevey, the perfect prat and resident Hogwarts Heartthrob.  The story ofBest-Mates-Maybe-More?continues...





	And We Hadn't Even Kissed Yet

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
> **Author's notes:**
> 
> This ficlet is a continuation of "I Would Totally Shag Your Father". 
> 
> You don't have to read that first to understand what's going on in this story, but it may help.
> 
> I'd like to thank my editors: Tamela, Jonathan, and Abigail -- all of whom did a wonderful job in making this story presentable and readable. 
> 
> ~Hugglez to Everyone~ 

**Hogwarts Library - Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Free Study Period**

“Stop being such a homo.” 

Albus hated that word — homo — especially when it came out of Tim McAlister's mouth, even if just in jest. Still, Albus hardly reacted at all when Tim said it, choosing instead to let his indifference respond to Tim's slight. Hardly a comeback, Albus knew, but he didn’t care enough to be bothered, truthfully. Instead, he continued his vigil and, hunched over the library desk, stared blankly at a side-view of one of the more disturbing sights he had ever witnessed: Scorpius batting his luxuriant eyelashes at Geoff Creevey and sitting in his lap. 

Okay, so maybe Scorpius wasn't _really_ "batting his eyelashes" at Geoff. 

And maybe they _weren't_ quite "in each other's lap". 

But that was hardly any consolation. 

Geoff had started tutoring Scorpius in Charms two days ago. Since then, they've been spending way too much time together, and spending it way to close to one another. 

Tim sighed. “Man, you've been nothing but a big woman these days. Harden the fuck up and go kick Geoff's ass.” 

Still no movement from Albus. 

Once Tim had realised the ineptitude of his taunts, he aimed for a different approach. “If it bothers you so much, go tell him.”

Albus pouted. “Tell him what, exactly?” 

“That he’s yours.” 

“I can’t do that,” Albus said solemnly, sitting up in his seat and flipping to another page in his _Charms For Dummies, Seventy-Fifth Edition_. “It’s not like…” 

Tim shook his head as he continued copying notes from one parchment pad to another. “Not like what? Man, I tell ya’... I’ll never understand you Brits. And if you ask me—”

“Funny that I don’t recall asking you, innit?” Albus sighed, giving another look towards Scorpius. 

Scorpius was in full Hogwarts attire: robes, Oxford shirt, Ravenclaw necktie fastened tightly around his neck. And he sat at a comfortable distance beside Geoff; no one would ever think that anything was happening between the two. So why was Albus feeling the way he did? 

Two words: Geoff (bloody) Creevey — son of Professor Creevey, seventh-year, Hufflepuff Prefect and Quidditch Captain, and all-around ‘Prince of Prats’. 

But were Albus completely honest with himself, he’d remember that Geoff had stood up for him during his first year at Hogwarts when he was being picked on by some of the higher years. In fact, Albus seemed to have forgotten that Geoff was both a friend of his brother and the object of his sister’s schoolgirl crush. That hardly meant anything, of course; the majority of students that leant towards fancying blokes had a crush on him. 

Tim nudged Albus’ shoulders with his own. “I thought you said you two hashed things out last week?” 

“We did… sort of.” Albus grimaced. “It’s complicated.” 

Complicated wasn’t quite the right word for his and Scorpius’ relationship; at least, as it had been redefined just a few short days ago. As friends, no one could call them inseparable, but they were together more often than not, either just the two of them or together with mutual friends. Lately, however, Albus only managed to see Scorpius during classes, meals, and the occasional pass-by in the corridors. 

They hadn’t even had their first kiss, yet there sat Scorpius, sitting far too close (for Albus’ comfort) to one of the most eligible and shaggable blokes at Hogwarts since the legendary Cedric Diggory. 

As formal as Scorpius had dressed for this so-called ‘study session’, Geoff had done quite the opposite. His shirt — which managed to be wrinkled in that annoyingly cool way shirts of annoyingly cool people tend to be — was unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest. Albus was sure that, at some angles, Scorpius could follow Geoff’s trail of light sandy-blonde hair down to his bellybutton — which was also probably way cooler than should be allowed. 

Geoff moved closer to Scorpius, undoubtedly under the pretence of looking over the latter’s notes, and Albus watched on, seething, as Geoff pulled the ole yawn-and-stretch manoeuvre. Mid-yawn, Geoff wrapped an arm around the back of Scorpius’ chair, and Albus practically jumped out his seat. But it was when he whispered in Scorpius’ ear, and Scorpius threw his head back in a fit of boisterous laughter, that Albus had had enough. 

Slamming his book shut, Albus stood and delivered a final glare towards his newly-christened enemy. “I’m off, then,” he said to Tim. 

“You’re done already?” 

“I guess I am.” 

Without another word, Albus stomped out of the library, refusing to give Scorpius even the quickest of glances. 

§

Breakfast the next morning was a tedious affair. Some dastardly machinations from the night before left the kitchens in such a disarray that the House Elves could barely keep in tow with the students’ hungry demands. (Odds were Knut-to-a-Galleon that the Weasley Triplets were responsible.) So slow was the service that many of the students opted not to eat breakfast at all; Scorpius appeared to be one of them, and Albus was more than put out about it. 

His head propped up on one elbow, Albus speared his Toad in the Hole and attacked his Scotch egg. He hadn't looked up from his plate or uttered a word to anyone all morning, and his fellow house mates knew from his demeanour not to pester him. Of course, the one person who _wouldn't_ know to stand clear of Albus while he was in this mood — and probably wouldn't care even if he did know — had walked up from behind and stood over Albus, casting a shadow over him. 

A voice boomed. “One side, Owlies.” 

_“Owlies”_ was an ‘endearing’ term sixth and seventh-years used to tease the fifth-years. It was a far-from-mild form of torture, especially after having already told the hapless younger students just how difficult the O.W.L. exams truly were. 

Albus didn’t need to look up to know who was responsible for the sudden kafuffle. That smooth baritone voice gave it away immediately — Creevey. A clavus seemed to strike Albus almost immediately. 

As if they were dominos, the students to the left of Albus (including Tim) slid further down the table to make room. Geoff set a fancy, leather-bound book down next to Albus, who instantly recognised it as the _Magique Libri_ — a blank spell book charmed to help decipher copied magical texts — that he had given Scorpius for Christmas last. He stared at the book’s gilded lettering as Geoff sat next to him, facing the opposite direction, his feet in the aisle, and leaning back on both elbows. 

“How can you eat that rubbish, mate?” Geoff asked after a beat. 

Albus straightened and took an extra large, extra slow, extra sloppy bite of his food — a defiant answer to the question. 

Geoff was unfazed. “Your brother eats far better than you, yet _his_ skin... Well, he could take some tips from you, that's for sure. I mean, yours is so… smooth.” 

Albus froze, finding it difficult to swallow. Very few people would ever compare James to Albus; undoubtedly, it would be considered rude. On the rare occasions they did, it was scarcely ever in Albus’ favour. He and James may be brothers, but they were hardly on the same street. 

When he did finally manage to swallow, however, he was quite certain the entire school could hear it. Or at the very least, the entire Ravenclaw table. 

“Where is Scorpius, by the bye?” 

And just like that, he was snapped out of a trance, as though doused by a tidal wave of icy water. Albus’ visage returned its previous lour. “Dunno, do I?” 

“Well, he skipped off last night—” he nodded at the _Libri_ , “—and forgot his book.” Geoff paused as if expecting a thank you. “I thought he’d be here, with you.” Another pause; another expectation. “Well, anyway, could you make sure he gets it, then?” 

Albus stole another bite of his breakfast, making every effort to speak with his mouth full. “Sure”— and bits of food flew out of his mouth, almost landing on Geoff (who remained unmoving and unmoved)— "I’ll get right on that.” 

If Geoff tasted the sarcasm in those words, dripping like so much crème from a freshly-baked éclair, he showed no indication. He merely nodded, gave Albus another once-over, and then, with a smile (damn that smile!), pushed away from the table and walked out of the Great Hall. 

Immediately, Tim slid back beside Albus. “Dude, what the fuck?” 

“I know, right,” Albus said, mouth still full of eschewed food. “The nerve of him—” 

“No, I meant _you_.” 

Albus’ attention snapped to Tim. “What?” 

“You were beyond rude, man.” 

Tim, of all people, should have understood. Geoff was a problem, an obstacle that had to be dealt with as quickly and efficiently as possible. Albus would be damned if he let that no-good, hack-kneed, poofy-haired, tan-skinned, smooth-faced, always-well-dressed, gorgeous-eyed, lush-arsed—ENOUGH! 

Albus shook those thoughts out of his head. 

“I’m telling you,” Tim continued, “if Malfoy hears you were lippy with Geoff, there’ll be hell to pay. And you know Malfoy’ll collect… in spades.” 

Tim certainly understood Scorpius, maybe more than Albus did. But it was easy for Tim to say these things, considering _his_ heart wasn’t the one in danger of breaking. Albus slumped over his food again, spearing various bits and pieces before finally pushing the plate away, wiping his mouth, and standing up. 

“I should probably go find Scorpius,” Albus said. “Give him his spell book back.” 

“Man, just talk to him!” Tim called out as Albus walked out of the Great Hall towards the Ravenclaw Tower. 

§  
  
_“You still want to shag my father, then?”_   
  
_“Nah… I suspect I’m rather fond of his son, actually.”_

Those words — that moment — had been carved onto the rock and stone of Albus’ memories as one of his most glorious moments. Ever. He had wanted to kiss Scorpius then and there, but opted not to. Scorpius had barely admitted to being gay, at any rate, and pushing him into a kiss seemed, to Albus, to be too much, too soon. Still, he wished he had, because it looked as though he would never get to kiss Scorpius, that Geoff would beat him to it (if he hadn’t already), and that Albus himself was destined to remain a virgin for the rest of his days. 

He walked down the corridor towards the stairwell that would lead him to the Aviary — as many of the older Ravenclaws had come to lovingly called their tower — with his arms hanging limp and heavy, pulling down his already horrible posture. That was the other thing. Geoff was perfect, or as good as; Albus was not. Well… he had good skin, apparently, according to Geoff… as if Albus wanted compliments from Geoff. He was probably being patronising anyway, the git. In fact, how dare he think that Albus even needed compliments! 

Anger welled up inside him, and Albus thought the anger was perfect! It would be much easier to hate Geoff if he, well, _hated_ _Geoff_. He could start by no longer referring to the prat as ‘Geoff’. Stick to last names. They’re impersonal, cold. Refer to the boyfriend-thief strictly as ‘Creevey’ — what kind of name was ‘Creevey’ anyway? A stupid name, that was what. 

“Bloody ruddy stinking putrid…” 

The familiar voice dragged Albus into the here-and-now. He perked up and found a scowling Scorpius clomping towards him, hands balled in fists, jaw clenched, and eyes narrowed into sharp slits. He looked very much like a snake ready to attack. 

“How bloody dare he…” 

Uh-oh. Albus swallowed hard, not quite sure what to expect. Scorpius looked quite shirty… at him. 

Scorpius stepped up to Albus. His breaths were quick and shallow. “Hey, we need to talk.” 

Bugger. “Erm… You left this with Geoff.” 

Albus held out the _Magique Libri_ , and Scorpius’ features softened slightly when he looked down. “Oh yeah. Ta.” But his sour expression returned after he took the book from Albus. “Anyway, we need to talk.” 

“O-Okay…” 

Albus looked around for a more private location, but Scorpius shook his head. 

“No, not now. Meet me in the dormitory when you're done with classes for the day.” 

Without waiting for an answer, Scorpius stormed past, shaking his head and muttering, “Bloody nit.” 

Albus watched as his best friend stomped down the corridor; watched in silence until Scorpius had travelled beyond his view and long after he could no longer hear the echoes of Scorpius’ heavy steps. His thoughts were blank, empty. Albus didn’t want to think, not at the moment, because when he did start to think and over-analyze and fret, the only conclusion he could come to was the one that told him he had already lost Scorpius. 

And they hadn’t even had their first kiss.


End file.
